Sunday, October 23, 2005

Talking in my sleep

Since I was a senior in high school, I periodically freak out my current roommate by waking up and trying communicate with her (or him, as the case has been for the past 8 years). The first time I did it, I wandered into my parent's room and tried to tell my mom that my marching band squad was missing. Not many days later when she tried to wake me up for church I told her I couldn't get up because it was National Pecan Day and I hate pecans.

What's happening here is that I'm a light sleeper. I dream a lot. Very vivid dreams. So vivid that sometimes I wake up, still thinking that my dream is reality, and try to involve the nearest person in that reality. So I know exactly what I'm saying, and I really believe what I'm saying, and I think the person with me is an imbecile for not understanding me. Later, when I wake up again, I realize that the night talker has struck again.

Erik has been subjected to this numerous times. He says I adopt this staccato voice that makes it obvious to him that he shouldn't try to understand but just get me to shut up and go back to sleep without making me so angry that I hit him. The way for him to avoid this is to try not to smirk at me. That's always my clue that I'm doing "that thing again" and I get embarassed and want to slap him into next week for laughing at me.

I tell you all this to give you context for telling you that Ethan has also become a night talker. Several times in the last few weeks he's woken up crying, and when we go to comfort him and ask him what's wrong, he says things like, "I don't want one!" or "I'm just . . . I'm just . . . " with the same voice I use. Last night he walked out into the living room and just stood there until we picked him up and took him back to his room. I think this is an argument for the nature side of nature/nurture.

2 comments:

Chris B. said...

Sis, I'm also a notorious night talker as well, I guess it must run in families. One time I told Jeremy that my pants were ripped. When he asked why my pants were ripped, I replied, "In case I get rowdy."

Gina Marie said...

My personal favorite was my freshman year. I woke up yelling, "Help Help Help!! Crap crap crap!!!" over and over. I jumped literally on my roommate because I was on the top bunk and hers stuck out like an L. She asked me what I was doing and I looked out the window and said, "There's no time!" Then I ran for the door. She yelled, "Gina, what are you doing?!" I said, "It's 5:17" and went back to bed.

When Erik comes to bed later than me, I usually think he's some strange guy and I pull this, "Stop! Don't move! Don't come any closer!" act. Poor guy.